


Bonnie and Clyde

by bbytaebin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Angst, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, What Was I Thinking?, idk what to tag this honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbytaebin/pseuds/bbytaebin
Summary: "S-Sicheng?" his voice is broken and quiet, laced with questions he doesn't have the time to ask and the emotions that this isn't the place to feel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unedited.

Taeyong breathes out, eyes watering slightly as footsteps shuffle behind him, clumsy and stumbling because they don't know what they just walked into. They don't know that Taeyong is here with men, eyes hungry and fingers wrapping tightly over handles of knives and holsters of guns. Maybe Sicheng does know. It's not like Taeyong does that good of a job hiding it.   
These men could pull the trigger aby time, but they're playing with him. They're showing Sicheng what they can do. Taeyong moves backwards, arms chilly in the nighttime air.  
He could take all these men out right now, but something, someone, is stopping him. He could take them all out with a swipe of his leg, just like Chittaphon taught him. He could make them run away crying, but instead his back hits the wall, listening to someone hum the song Taeyong knows he heard echoing from Sicheng's lips earlier that morning.  
A song about a summer love, a lazy beat that reminds him of Sicheng. It sticks to the back of his head like chewing gum, mocking Taeyong.  
The soft humming gets louder, and Taeyong can't just grab Sicheng and run. That would be suspicious.  
Then they would know. Him and Sicheng would have no lazy Sunday's. No days where they just wander downtown, no stargazing wherever they felt the need.  
It's selfish, but Taeyong doesn't want to give that up. He doesn't want to realize his occupation puts both him and Sicheng at risk. That they shouldn't have days like that in the first place because it does more harm than good.  
"Who's this?' Hoarse voices prickle Taeyong's skin with disgust.   
They're looking at Sicheng in a way not even Taeyong would let himself look at him.  
His eyes dart around, as if looking for Taeyong, and at this point he's already screwed so what is the point?  
Taeyong leaps in front of Sicheng, not letting anyone near him.   
Instead of running out like Taeyong would like, Sicheng molds into Taeyong's back, clinging to his jacket and breathing heavily like he just ran a marathon or something equally strenuous.   
"T-T-Tae," Taeyong shushes him immediately, not letting Sicheng speak any more than he has to because if there's anything Sicheng is good at, it's being dense.  
When Taeyong tried to ask Sicheng out the first three times, he thought Taeyong wanted him to set him up with his friend Jaehyun.  
Taeyong doesn't like Jaehyun.  
He's shook from his thoughts by the men advancing. Sicheng removes himself from Taeyong, which is the worst possible thing that he could do. But because he's Dong Sicheng, it makes sense.  
Their voices are rotten to Taeyong's ears, making him want to shrink into himself and hide from everyone and everything. Even Sicheng.  
He doesn't want to look him in the eye.  
Even though Sicheng is dense, he knows what's going on. Even the basics, that they are about to be robbed. Taeyong is sure that Sicheng hasn't realized Taeyong has seen these men before, or that he used to be one of them and that's why they are here.  
Taeyong doesn't want to fight here.  
As selfish as it sounds, he wants Sicheng to see him pure. He doesn't want to frighten him.  
But when their sneers of things they'll do to Taeyong turn into things they want to do to Sicheng, Taeying feels his blood heat up.   
His heart rate quickens, and he twists around restlessly in the need to touch and feel these men fall beneath him.  
Sicheng's chest molds into his back once again, arms clinging onto Taeyong's shirt, knuckles white against the navy blue fabric.  
Just now, Sicheng realized what's going on.   
Taeyong knows by the fingers that release themselves from his shirt, and the chest that no longer connects to his back like its meant to be there.  
Footsteps trace backwards, out towards the mouth of the alley, hands ripping and pulling ferociously at Taeyong's jacket that sits loosely on his shoulders.  
His mouth is forming broken words, eyes brimming with tears because his mother and father were right.   
Sicheng's trophy boyfriend from high school, receiving straight A's and joining the football team to cry when he got cut, is this.  
He's a monster. Taeyong knows.   
This isn't the first time he's been called this. But it is the first time it's hurt.   
"S-Sicheng?" his voice is broken and quiet, laced with questions he doesn't have the time to ask and the emotions that this isn't the place to feel.   
Sicheng makes no looks towards Taeyong, and spins and runs.   
The men in front of him pay Sicheng no mind, and that's good enough for Taeyong. As long as he's safe, Taeyong isn't angry.   
Well, that's a lie. He is angry. He's angry at these men for targeting him, his mother for not caring enough, his father for not pulling his head out of a liquor bottle long enough to gasp even a breath in Taeyong's direction.  
He's angry at Chittaphon, for normalizing whatever this is.   
But he's not angry at Sicheng. He can't be. He can't pretend nine years ago he wouldn't have abandoned someone like him either.  
His eyes fleet around, now he doesn't have to hold back.  
He takes out a few, but he can't focus. His legs won't move where he tells them, and his eyes won't stop fleeting back to the opening of the alley, leaving them enough time to wind him and send him barrelling back against a wall.   
He's breathing heavily and can't decipher where pain starts and stops, so his arms stay limp against his side.  
They point a gun at him, and assuming he has the strength to stop them, he doesn't. He sits and listens to their monologue and wishes they would stop dragging it out.   
They shoot, and pain pierces his abdomen, but it's just above the pain he was feeling before. There's a laugh, and he pries his eyes open to look.  
Sicheng is standing in front of him, shaking and wobbling.  
Taeyongs eyes widen as he falls, head hitting the ground, lukewarm red surrounding his lower half.   
Taeyong forgets he was shot too until he almost passes out lunging towards Sicheng.  
"Leave 'em."   
And with that, they're left alone.  
Sicheng's eyes open briefly, but they close just as quickly.  
By the time ambulances come, they have both passed out, and the next time Taeyong sees light, he's blindsided.  
"Sicheng?"  
Sicheng doesn't answer.  
His eyes look anywhere but Taeyong. The white walls of the hospital room. The grime on his shoes.  
"I'm glad you're okay." Taeyong says quietly, not looking up from the blanket of his cot.  
Sicheng scoffs.  
"I've been okay for a long time."  
Taeyong knows Chittaphon is eavesdropping.   
"Don't come near me ever again. It's been nine months. I've moved on."   
"Babe, yo-"   
It's Jaehyun.  
Taeyong never liked Jaehyun.  
"Yeah."  
And as Sicheng walks out, purposefully holding Jaehyun's hand, Taeyong realizes.  
He can be mad.


End file.
